


Hungry Like The Wolf

by devilsduplicity



Category: Being Human (US/Canada)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-08
Updated: 2011-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:33:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilsduplicity/pseuds/devilsduplicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray has an especially domineering personality. Oh, and he thinks Josh is his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hungry Like The Wolf

**Who:** Ray/Josh  
 **What:** A response to [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/beinghumankink/1711.html?thread=36527#t36527) on the [](http://beinghumankink.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://beinghumankink.livejournal.com/)**beinghumankink** meme. Ray has an especially domineering personality. Oh, and he thinks Josh is his mate. Written as a sort of companion piece to last night's episode.  
 **When:** During 1x04  
 **Word Count:** 2,300~  
 **Warnings:** R; language, dub(or non; just depends on how you look at it)-con, spoilers for 1x04.

 

 

 

"I've been watching you," he says. His voice is low; a shard too sinister.

Josh senses this immediately, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He needs to get away -- fight or flight, _fight or fucking flight_ \-- and he's only a werewolf _sometimes_ so he chooses that last option.

He thanks the man for the clothes -- _thanks_ him, but bites his jaw, kicks up dirt in the other man's face with the tone of his voice and the instinctual vibrations dictating his posture.

The unrelenting gaze piercing his back makes him feel slick and slimy, like he's bleeding from the spine.

 

*******

 

Aidan doesn't know _shit_.

Sure, he's got heightened senses, he's got the speed and strength and smell of a real fighter, but he doesn't have that _other_ one -- the one that says _lay down on your back and **beg** for mercy before your throat is ripped out_. Aidan's got his wits, and a learned sense of hierarchy.

Josh just _knows_.

He knows the second an alpha steps into the room, can taste that sickly aroma of pine and dirt and blood; that hint of _heavy_ , the melon-dew musk that bites like a winter rain and cleans the pallet with steel wool.

Josh's tongue is so thick with copper he can't swallow. The hospital buzzes around him with the muted tone of a pleasant sort of white static, while the foreground holds nothing but _those eyes_ and _that smell_ and the awful, vertebrae-snapping pitch of a monster possessed.

 _Aidan doesn't know a single goddamned thing in the entire goddamned world_.

 

*******

 

They have their coffee, but Josh feels bad intentions, and no amount of caffeine can remedy the flips his stomach is making.

Ray leads the way, stomping through the woods like he owns them, like he's lived there all his life and _Oh!_ Hello oak tree, what a fine morning it is! And stay back, little doe, it's time for the wolves to play their games. You wouldn't want to get caught in the pull of this hurricane.

Josh sips his cappuccino, but it does nothing to burn the fear out of him. Worthless shitty drink.

The further out they go, the more nervous he becomes, until his trepidations have reached their peak and the only thing left would be for all his worries to come to fruition.

The sight of that run-down cabin made his stomach drop -- for all the expression on his face, it could've been a gateway to Hell.

"Where are we?" he asks quickly, breathlessly -- the hike had left him exhausted, he'd like to think, but he wasn't very good at lying to himself.

"School," Ray replies in that southern drawl of his, one corner of his mouth tipping up to show off the edge of his incisors.

The feeling comes back; had never really left in the first place, but had dimmed to a dull ache. Now, it feels like a knife to the gut.

A hand falls on his shoulder. He's trapped.

 

*******

 

Rule Number One: Don't Hurt Anyone, Don't Change Anyone.

Rule Number Two: Don't Consort With Vampires.

He was already on the road to failure, but at least he'd gotten Rule Number Three right:

Submit To Your Alpha.

Josh is on his hands and knees on the dirty, splintered floor, his head grinding into the wood. He can't help it -- the man in him _rails_ at giving up so easily, but, well, he's not very good at being human in the first place, so the monster tells the man to _shut the fuck up can't you see he's going to kill me if I don't do what he says,_ and the rebuttal, _death would be better than this!_ and the reply, _disobedience is worse than death!_

An alpha werewolf has a peculiar trait that not many werewolves care to expound upon. It's hard to explain the unexplainable, and so Josh has never bothered to hold these kinds of conversations with Aidan (though Aidan has always _been there_ if he _wants_ to hold those kinds of conversations). He wants a sense of order. He's a _pack animal_ for chrissakes. Submission, though far from easy, feels _right_.

Two calloused, gripping palms are rubbing his hips and pulling him back into the rugged body of the larger man behind him. Josh grits his teeth and bites back a growl.

"I could smell you from a mile away," Ray's saying. His fingers slide into the unoccupied belt loops on Josh's jeans, using the tiny slips of fabric as leverage to pull the younger werewolf closer. "Sweet, tangy scent... like citrus." He laughs, but it's not cruel -- just... _there_.

Josh closes his eyes, drags his forehead against the ground. He wants to shake off the mesmerizing, near-hypnotic sensation coursing through his veins like a heady drug. His wolf _wants_ to submit, _wants_ to bask in the thundershower bite of an older dog, but his human keeps throwing logic and reason and doubt and fear into his face.

The solid plane of a firm chest settles along the curve of his spine, and the warm sensation of a whisper tickles his ear.

"Hush, little pup. I'll take care a' ya'."

All-in-all, the entire act was rather quick. His hips were jarred, his skin bruised, and his _ass_ felt like Hiroshima.

Ray was hot and hard behind him, murmuring dark things into his skin.

"You're so perfect."

"Your skin is so fucking soft."

"That's right, little pup. _Howl_ for me."

"Hush now, dog, I'll go slow on ya'."

"You're mine," he'd say during the most heated moments, " _Mine_."

And Josh felt every second of it.

 

*******

 

So, okay, that first day of "school" had been just about the worst thing in the history of forever, but Josh had to admit... Ray wasn't a really bad guy, when it was all said and done.

He's sipping a beer on his living room couch while pondering this, cradling the bottle between his fingers. Ray's talking to Sally, and they're both laughing at some joke that went completely over his head, but it didn't really matter because he wasn't really listening in the first place.

He takes another swig, stares unabashedly.

Ray senses it, glances over, flashes him a smile that's all teeth.

Josh doesn't _get it_. The guy practically _molested_ him, and now he's all... _friendly_. Hasn't made a move since that first day, though Josh is just waiting for the ball to drop, and get freakin' _sneak-attacked_ in the middle of the night. But despite his paranoia, the most he's gotten is a pleasant "G'night" and a pat on the head. Which is just... weird.

He stares a moment too long, prompting Ray to excuse himself from Sally and swagger on over to Josh's side.

"What's up, pup?"

He calls him _pup_ , like he's a child, or a pet.

Josh bows his head, stares intently at the half-empty bottle of beer -- and there's a hint to that decadent side of pessimism he carries around like a handbag full of bricks -- and waits for Ray to stop _staring_ at him.

The older wolf does, eventually, just long enough to tousle Josh's hair and sit beside him. They're glued together, thigh to thigh. Ray doesn't say anything until Sally leaves the room.

"You don't smell it, do ya'?"

God _fuck_ , did _normal_ people have these kinds of conversations?

Josh slumps his shoulders and lays the cool body of the bottle against his cheek.

"Sometimes," he says vaguely, but his senses aren't quite honed like the older werewolf, and the fickle aroma that tickles his nose every now and then is faint and impossible to place. He'd never before come across anything like it.

"It's like heat," Ray says, and Josh wishes he'd move, wishes he'd stop being so damn _warm_. "It's like lust, except stronger."

And then Ray tells him the _one thing_ he never wanted to hear, _ever_.

"You're my mate."

 

*******

 

They don't _do it_ again; not until Josh is _ready_. Josh assures Ray that _I'll never be fucking ready you fucking sicko get out of my house._ But he's shut up with a single _look_ and, yeah, let's not take for granted the power of an alpha over lesser dogs, but Josh is still fidgeting and Ray is still _there_.

Things go downhill, which sucks because they'd started at the bottom of the hill in the first place.

Josh's sense of self is derailed. All these lessons on assertion, on desire, on honing his senses were really starting to mess with his head. Ray was cajoling him, arm slung around his neck, ordering him drinks and devouring their food and treating him like an equal while stepping on his tail at the same time. Josh wants to go to Aidan but he _doesn't_ want to go to Aidan, and Aidan's busy with work or something so the decision is made for him.

He's standing at the edge of a precipice, and instead of jumping, he slips.

 

*******

 

"Come with me."

Ray is lounging on the couch with his feet slung in Josh's lap. Josh wants to push them off, but he rests his arms against the other wolf's calves instead.

"No thanks," is his knee-jerk response. He waits a tick, and adds, "Where?"

"Anywhere!" is the response. "That ghost girl a' yours is alright, but somethin's fishy with that vampire."

Josh's hackles rise.

"I already told you, Aidan's not _like_ the others."

"Still smells like a bloody corpse," Ray comments derisively.

Josh pushes Ray's feet off of him, mood suddenly violent (he's been having more swings like that lately), and stands up.

"You need to leave."

There's a hand on his chest before he even knows what to do with himself. Dry lips rake across his mouth, swallowing the sound of protest that barks out when he's pushed down and pinned against the back of the couch. Josh closes his eyes, wanting it to stop, wanting it to continue, wanting to bite the alpha's tongue off, wanting to pull it closer. Where Ray has learned to coexist with his wolf, Josh is two sides to a coin; a joining of unwilling opposites.

When the other man finally pulls back (just enough to break contact, not enough to give Josh some fucking _space_ ), he flashes a roguish grin.

"Not unless you're comin' with me."

"No."

"Then I'm not goin' anywhere."

"Get _out_."

A little smirk is all Josh gets for his frustration.

 

*******

 

When he's digging his nails into the flesh of a bloody tick, all Josh can think about is _why me_ and _I'm no fucking submissive_ and _kill kill kill_. All inhibitions have been stripped. Ray is howling in the background, victory and bloodlust stamped into every blow he lands. Josh is _terrified_ of the wolf, afraid he's gonna join them together, but it hits him that that's exactly what Ray wants -- to bind his human with his wolf, and to tame his wolf with his human. That's what a werewolf _is_ , after all -- neither one nor the other, but the best and the worst of both worlds.

When they get home that night, Josh is to the point of tears. Ray's still high from the fight, so he goes wandering off into the other room, oblivious to the turmoil roiling inside of his self-professed mate.

Josh's transformation was a day early, only, this time it wasn't _physical_.

He runs a shaky hand through his hair, closes his eyes, breathes deep.

He needs to talk to Aidan.

 

 

**FIN**

  
 


End file.
